


Sleepless In Space

by NightLily



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Daddy Kink, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mirror Sex, Not Beta Read, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:20:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28630176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightLily/pseuds/NightLily
Summary: Grogu was gone.His covert was gone.The Razor Crest which had been as much his home as the Covert was also gone.His quest was complete.And all he had to show for it was a sabre he didn’t want, a claim to the throne of a planet he had never been to and a broken creed.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Boba Fett
Comments: 22
Kudos: 307





	Sleepless In Space

Grogu was gone.

His covert was gone.

The Razor Crest which had been as much his home as the Covert was also gone.

His quest was complete.

And all he had to show for it was a sabre he didn’t want, a claim to the throne of a planet he had never been to and a broken creed.

Boba’s side-splitting laugh when Fennec retold the story still ringing in his ears. Though when he had turned to look at Din, he had seemed almost good natured when he offered “his Princess” a ride to Tatooine.

Din had had no where else to go so he had accepted. He had been somewhat shell shocked and grateful for the help.

Din was currently in the sleeping quarters of Slave 1 but sleep was proving impossible since he had taken in the foundling, he had grown accustomed to having another body next to his. His final moments with Grogu playing on repeat whenever he closed his eyes, every night since he watched Jedi walk away has been the same. Ending with Din giving up in frustration.

All that was left for him to do was wander aimless down to the cargo hold and begin a cycle of armour checks, weapons maintenance and restless pacing. Pacing that inevitably lead him to the cockpit where Boba Fett was making tiny adjustments to their course or down to the meal room when the older bounty hunter was there instead.

Not for food mind, Din hadn’t been able to stomach much food outside of consuming just enough to keep himself going. No, it was Fett’s presence that he was seeking out. It was so calm, safe, and if only for these brief moments, his mind was quiet. When he was the center of Boba Fett’s attention he didn’t feel so alone.

Since Din had acquired the dark sabre, Fett had taken to calling him Princess. He had thought it was just to irate Bo-katan but the nickname had stuck. This was his life now it seemed. He promised himself that Boba would never know how much that nickname meant to him and reminded himself not to get attached, it would just be that much harder when they parted ways.

The other bounty hunter liked to touch as well. Just small gestures, a firm grip to the back of the neck while telling a story, a shoulder bump when asking a question, a hand on Din’s back when he was making a point. His favourite was when they were sitting in the cockpit and Fett would spin his seat to face him, all attention on Din, eyes fixed on his visor like he can see through it. All he wanted to do was sink to his knees between Boba’s thighs and nuzzle close, breathing in his scent while the other man stroked his head and called little one.

Din was blaming the lack of sleep for his thoughts, including the ones that ended with Din kneeling between Boba’s spreads thighs and pulling the other man’s cock from his robes, suckling it, strong hands cradling his head, telling him he was being so good. Calling him Princess. It was times like that that had Din sweating, blushing furiously under his helmet and stuttering out an excuse while dashing out of the room like his pants were on fire. All the while he could almost swear Fett looked amused at his fumbling.

The days of lack of sleep was starting to take its total in other areas and he knows Fett and Shand can see it as well. The Bounty hunter had missed Fennec walking up behind him the day before and almost drawn his blaster until he got a hold of himself, ears burning with embarrassment under his helmet. He knows the assassin noticed even if she never said anything.

Since the Razor Crest’s destruction he had been relying on Fett’s good graces but that good will hinged on him being able to function and do his job. A bounty hunter is no good to anyone if they are jumping at every movement and spending all his spare time following along behind like a lost duckling while daydreaming about being put on his knees and petted. That good will is about to run out sooner rather than later if the hushed conversations that ended abruptly when he entered and meaningful looks and head tilts dogged every interaction meant anything.

Contrary to belief, Din could take a hint. He knew he would be parting ways with them both at Tatooine. The thought of being on his own again filled him with sadness but he knew it was for the best. Maybe after some separation he could pass through again and still have a friendly reception rather than if he stayed and was forced to leave. It was the little things that gave him hope.

Tonight, his restless stalking had brought him to the cockpit where Fett was looking over the plotted course, Shand nowhere in sight. Briefly Din thought about turning around and heading down to the cargo hold, get a head start on being alone again but he couldn’t do it, he just wanted to bask a bit longer in the feeling of safety, absorb as much of it as he could before he had to go back to surviving alone. He thought he had been silent on his approach but something must have alerted the older bounty hunter.

“We’ll make our descent shortly, it will be early morning planet side” Din nodded his head in understanding, there are certain hours of the day when people are at their most inattentive, less likely to have their guard up and reactions slower, “are you up to this little one?” 

The pet name hit him like a physical blow driving the breath from his lungs. His eyes started to sting. All he could do was stare at the lights on the control panel of Slave 1, mouth moving but unable to make a sound. A gentle hand brushed his wrist, the touch like an electric current as Din flinched back out of range jerking his head up to stare at Fett, visor giving nothing away. The younger bounty hunter swallowed heavily before answering, burning with shame at the waver in his voice. _Pathetic_.

“I’ll be ready”

Fett tilted his head and hummed, his stare feeling like it was peeling back the Baskar and cataloguing all of Din’s weaknesses, “You’re not, I have half a mind to leave you behind, come collect you when it’s over but I fear the mischief you would get in to if I left you unattended.” The amusement was clear in his voice, “Come. Let us prepare. Shand is already in the hanger. We can continue this conversation once we have cleaned house.”

The next few hours flew by like minutes for Din. The descent was a blur of last-minute weapons checks and going over the entry and rendezvous points. They were splitting up on entry, Fennec covering them from a cross the street while Din and Boba made their way inside, dispatching the guards. When the two routes converged Shand would join them and together they were entering the throne room. Thankfully weapons and strategy were as easy as breathing, done so many times in his life that muscle memory took over.

The breach of the compound was a little more nerve wracking. A big part of the plan involved remaining undetected for as long as possible, the Hutt cartel may have taken a hit since Jabba’s death and Bib taking over but they still outnumbered them. After all any idiot can get a lucky shot and stupid is hard to predict.

Shand took the high ground with a high-powered suppressed rifle while Din and Boba entered from the side and rear doors respectively. With stealth in mind Din forwent his blasters and instead opted for his blade. The first guard went down easy, his back turned to the mouth of the alley as he relieved himself against the wall. A hand clasped over his mouth and a clean cut across his throat severing the vocal cords and arteries in one fluid movement. Din dragged the body over to a bin for concealment, just in case someone passed by and raised the alarm.

From there it was easy to sneak inside and dispatched the next three in the same manner as the first in quick succession. Body and mind falling effortlessly into a rhythm. His knifes grip was starting to get slick by the fifth, causing the bounty hunter to lose his grip when the guard put up a struggle. Hand still firmly planted over his opponent’s face, Din snapped his foot into the guard’s knees hearing the crack and whimper as the body went rigid in pain. From there it was an easy matter to reposition his hand and snap his opponent’s neck with one violent jerk, letting the body drop as he stumbled back up right. He was close to the rendezvous point.

He didn’t even hear the shot at first, just the sharp pain where a blast found a lucky gap between his armour plating on his side. Dropping him to his knees with the force of the hit. The guard looked surprised to have landed the hit and that moment’s hesitation was all the time Din needed. He launched himself across the space, grasp the guard’s arm as he rolled, throwing him up and over his head. Slamming the guard down head first with a sickening snap. The body drops like a rag doll. Din pauses to listen for approaching foot steps just in case the noise had alerted another guard but there was nothing just the sound of his own breath. 

Din knelt panting for a moment, spots dancing in front of his eyes. A loud foot fall alerted him to an oncoming threat but before he could even gather himself there was a shot from behind him, the blast found its mark, propelling the last guard’s body back a few steps with the impact. Din glanced over his shoulder, adrenaline still pumping scanning for a new threat, gloved hand clamped to his side, to see both Boba and Shand striding towards him.

Fennec gave the bounty hunter a quick nod before entered the throne room a head of them while Boba stopped next to Din, a large hand coming to land on his shoulder enough to almost have Din sagging into the touch. He was so tired now, his vision starting to blur and his side was just a wall of angry throbbing pain. “Still with me little one?”

The gentleness in that tone just about brought him undone, a whimper wanting to work its way out but he clamped his jaw against it. Teeth grinding. He was a Mandalorian, a bounty hunter and had been through so much worse. He may not have been able to protect his foundling or been good enough to be his teacher but this he could do. Din squared his shoulders, shrugged Fett’s hand off even when his body was screaming at him to lean closer. Din forced himself to his feet, gritting a reply out between his clenched teeth, “Let’s get this done.” And followed Boba in through the doors.

One freed slave and one dead Bib Fortuna later, the throne to Tatooine was Fett’s who had taken to the throne like he was always meant to be there. The sight of the older bounty hunter sitting on the throne, thick thighs spread invitingly and commanding aura exuding from every pore made Din’s mouth go dry, but Boba Fett didn’t need Din Djarin, had no use for a soft underbelly to rub. He had Fennec perched on the arm of his throne, one of the best assassin’s to ever operate in the galaxy. In future he might have a job for Mando though, best to leave now with some form of dignity intact.

While Din couldn’t deny the comfort and companionship he had felt while traveling on Slave 1 a slight shift of his stance sent a lance of pain across his side that reminded him further why this arrangement was short lived.

He took his hand off his wound and glanced down, distantly noting that there was a bit more blood than he was expecting. Further proof that he was a failure. Covert dead or missing, ship destroyed, foundling taken in by a better guardian and the only member of this raiding party that couldn’t do their job without being wounded. Better to take his leave before he embarrasses himself further by needing Fett or Shand to show him the door.

Din took a moment to drink in the sight before him before slipping back out the doors. First he would need to take care of the wound then he could look for work. He would need money to get a new ship and if Tatooine was good for one thing it was that somebody always wanted someone found.

If he had looked back for just a moment, he would have seen that his departure had not gone unnoticed.

Din finds a little out of the way room that has both a light and a mirror, from the looks and smell of it the dancers used to bring clientele here for some alone time.

No matter it would suite his purpose anyway. Din set to work removing his armour and under shirt, trying to angle his body towards the mirror to see the wound in a better light. It wasn’t deep thankfully but it was long and the scuffle with the last guard had opened it a bit more than it would have otherwise have been.

Just as he was using his shirt to wipe what he could of the blood away, the door opened just a crack. Boba called to him, voice firm but gentle, like one would speak to a panicking animal. “Little one, can I come in? Do you still have your helmet on?”

Din hesitated, he could lie and he was almost positive that Boba would accept that and stay outside the room. But that would only delay this confrontation and if he was being honest just the sound of Boba’s voice and his proximity was making his eyes well with tears. He was just so tired of fighting. Of always having to guard himself. He held out one moment more before giving in to his weaker instincts, voice wavering “Yeah”

Boba slipped in, helmet grasp under his arm. Din cringed a little as Fett took him in, half armour off, torn shirt bloodied and wound still weeping blood down his side, he must have looked a sight. “Oh little one, let me have a look at that,” Boba went to take another step closer causing Din to flinch back, he didn’t know what came over him but suddenly he felt too exposed.

Boba paused and held out his hand like you would to a skittish animal, eyes gentle. “It’s ok, let me see Princess, let Daddy help.”

Din shook a little as he stared at that hand. The temptation to reach back almost suffocating. As the moment stretched on and Boba didn’t step forward nor did he retract his hand, Din realised that the next move would need to be his, that Boba was prepared to wait for Din to decide. Din slowly held the shirt out, breath lodged in his throat.

“That’s good Princess, let me have a look at you.”

Gentle hands took the shirt and discarded it. The older man sat his helmet down and pulled a clean cloth from one of his pouches, motioning for Din to step back into better light.

Din lent forward slightly to allow the other man space to work. Careful fingers wiped the blood away before a bacta patch was applied. The brief sting making him hiss quietly. It had been a long time since Din was treated with such care. And Fett was treating him like something precious, breakable. It almost hurt to be treated like this.

Din was struggling to hold back little hiccups of air just shy of sobs at the treatment. Trying to keep his distress from the other bounty hunter. Though Fett most likely thought it was due to the pain rather than the overwhelming emotion brought on by the care he was being shown.

“There you go,” strong hands rubbed his back, a barely there brush of lips on his shoulder so brief Din almost couldn’t be certain it wasn’t his own mind playing tricks. A callus rough hand gripped one of his and encouraged Din to turn to face the older man. Standing half naked in front of Boba only helped highlight the difference in their builds, while Din might have a little height on Fett the other man was so broad, his wide shoulders and thick thighs dwarfing Dins.

The silence stretched on as Boba just looked at him, face serious. Thumb idly stroking across the back of Dins knuckles. The prolonged stare was making him feel so exposed and raw. Like he was going to crawl out of his own skin if Fett didn’t say something soon. Surely this was just one last helping hand before he broke the news to Din that he didn’t want him around, that he was too much of a liability.

“We should talk before this goes any further”

That one sentence had Din’s heart jumping up into his throat before plummeting to his stomach. This was it. Clearing his throat Din prepared to tell Fett that he would be gone by tomorrow, the least he could do was try to preserve some dignity and not make Fett have to ask him to leave and over stay his welcome. His usefulness was over, time to move on. He was used to this dance.

Din tried to pull his hand back from Boba only to find that the grip was too firm to break. He tried to speak only to find that his vocal cords had locked up and refused to make sound.

Din started to panic, his welling of emotion was too much, the helmet suddenly felt too stuffy, he couldn’t get enough air, all he could produce was little hiccuping sobs, shaking Fett’s hand off of his Din reached up to rip his helmet off but those gentle hands were back, stopping him, pulling him back into a solid chest, head tucked under Boba’s chin and ear pressed over his heart, the steady beat helping to sooth. Fett started to rock him side to side and making shooshing noises. “It’s ok little one, deep breathes for me, in and let it out slowly. Good boy and again.”

It took a few more minutes of just breathing with Boba before Din was calm again and then the shame hit a new. He froze all over, body going stiff as a board while his face felt like it would catch fire with shame. Boba carried scars from an experience that should have killed him for fucks sake and here Din is losing his composer over being told that it was time to move on. Absolutely pathetic. The very idea that The Boba Fett would want anything to do with Din at this point wa-

“Ahhh!” Din’s thoughts were brought to a screeching halt when a firm smack was delivered to his backside.

“Now that I have your attention, I thinks it’s time we had that conversation” a knuckle tipped Dins head so he had to look into Fett’s face that was suddenly stern, “I’m not letting you go, no matter how this conversation ends, you will be staying here for the foreseeable future.”

That should have sparked fear and indignation or even anger in Din but all he felt was a sense of relief. That he wouldn’t be sent away, that he was claimed.

Boba let go, scooped up his helmet and moved to the only chair in the room, placing his helmet on the small table before taking a seat.

Dins mouth went dry, he could imagine himself sinking between those thighs, caged in and grounded. Being petted.

The amused look was back in Boba’s face and in his voice when he next spoke, “Are you planning to stand there all night or do you want to make yourself comfortable?”

Din crossed the room to stand near the bed but stopped short of taking a seat instead shuffling nervously from foot to foot. Biting his lip and unsure what to do with himself. He knew where he wanted to be but just because he wasn’t getting thrown out didn’t mean that Boba wanted him to do _that_.

Yet again Boba knew the right words to undo him.

“Come kneel for Daddy.” A slight widening of his thighs all the invitation Din needed to stumble over, falling to his knees with all the grace of a newborn mammal. The feeling of thick thighs pressing against his shoulders even better than he imagined but nothing compared to the whispered “Good boy.”

Din was given a moment to settle helmet leaning on Boba’s thigh, strong fingers rubbing and massaging his upper back and neck. Kneading the tension and knots out. The bounty hunter could feel his shoulders drooping.

“You have a choice to make Little one, you can either keep your helmet or you can remove it. Neither option will change how we proceed. You’ve been left without care for too long I think.” All the while the other bounty hunter never stopped touching him.

Din only hesitated for a minute before reaching up and removing his helmet. Giving it to Boba when he gestured so it could be put side by side with the other man’s helmet.

A big hand started stroking through, soft brown hair. The other bounty hunter grasping his chin making Din look up. A thumb rubbing over his lower lip. Boba’s eyes were soft as he seemed to be trying to drink in the sight before him. “There you are little one.”

Din melted under the gentle rubbing and pet name. Tension he hadn’t even realised he was feeling easing. His eyes started to flicker shut, he could have gone to sleep light this. Cheek pressed against Boba’s thigh, fingers combing through his hair but he was shaken out of this trance when Boba took a firmer hold on his chin, voice serious. “I need you to focus on me, focus on Daddy. Can you do that for me little one?”

Din nodded in answer and felt a blush starting again when the older man gave an amused hum “I’m going to need you to use your words for this next answer, I don’t want any room for doubt between us. Am I to understand that you would like to form a relationship with me”?

Din started to nod before catching himself, “Yes”

Boba took a moment to gather his thoughts before he spoke again, all the while still stroking Din.

“I need you to understand that I will still want you with or without this aspect, I’m not going to turn you away no matter your answer. It seems evident but just to be clear, do you want to explore this side of our relationship?”

Din didn’t hesitate before rushing out an eager “Yes Daddy.”

Boba smiled down at the kneeling man “Ok Princess, I just needed to be sure we were on the same page. I’ve heard communication is important. If at any time there is something you don’t like I need to tell me, can you do that for Daddy?”

“Yes.” Din was starting to lose patience with this line of talk so he answered with a bit more attitude than originally intending. Boba chuckled, amused by the little inkling of the brat his Princess will become when more confident in himself and their relationship. “Yes what?”

“Yes Daddy”

Boba guides Din to stand and turn around to face the mirror. For a very brief moment Din is worried that he had misunderstood or that Boba wasn’t as amused as he seemed by his back talk and was about to be sent on his way but his pants are pushed down and he is helped out of them before being pulled back onto the waiting lap behind him, his back leaning on Boba’s chest plate.

His thighs forced to spread over Boba’s, holding him wide open. His eyes drawn to the reflection of his cock starting to harden against his stomach. He hears the sound of a bottle cap being opened and liquid being worked into a hand.

Din is mesmerised by the contract between his completely naked form and Boba’s still almost completely armoured one.

The bounty hunter almost jumps out of his skin when a slick hand wraps around his cock, giving it a few firm strokes. The sensation making his thighs tense and a prickle of heat curl up his spine.

Din could count on one hand the amount of people that had touched him in a tender manner since swearing the creed. The sensation brought him to full hardness so quickly he felt light headed for a split second. Din lent his head back on Boba’s shoulder but kept his eyes glued to his weeping cock sliding through Boba’s fist in the mirror.

The sight making his breath catch and hips hitch, trying to chase the sensation but one of Boba’s hands grips his hip and keeps him still. Din can’t stop the pouty whine, “Daddy please, harder, faster.”

“Easy Princess, I’ll take care of you. You just need to be good for Daddy.”

Din doesn’t know how long they spend like that. His eyes remaining locked to the reflection. Sweat reflecting the dim light, highlighting the play of his muscles as he rolled his hips as much as he could in the tight grip. The heat and arousal coiling tighter and tighter at the base of his spine. The chill of Boba’s chest plate providing a counter point to his almost too hot skin.

The orgasm is ripped out of him without warning, catching him by surprise. Every muscle going tight, toes curling. His hands scrambling for something to hold on to, something to ground him. It feels like his bones are melting. As the wave of pleasure slowly recedes Din becomes aware of Boba gentle rubbing his stomach and kissing his ear, neck and jaw. Whispering words of praise as he goes.

Din turned and nuzzled close; he can’t quite stop a yawn but he can feel that Boba is hard. He reaches down and cups his hand over the hard cock, giving a shiver of excitement even as another yawn fights its way out. Din only gets a few moments to explore before his fun is interrupted.

“Not now little one, I think for the moment you just need daddy to look after you,” Dins hand is cradled and brought to Boba’s lips where light kisses are peppered across his knuckles. “It’s time for a nap, plenty of time later for you to show me how good you can be for Daddy”

With that reassurance, Din cuddled close to Boba and finally slept.


End file.
